


Snow Big Deal

by FullOnLarrie, kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie)



Series: Tiny Penis Fics [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Micropenis, Photographer Harry, Photographer Niall, Small Penis, Smut, Snowboarder Louis Tomlinson, Snowboarding, but not really because he’s Niall’s assistant, lighting crew Liam and Zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: Louis is a professional snowboarder set to appear in ESPN The Body Issue and Harry is an assistant photographer working for the magazine. They have more in common than they think.





	Snow Big Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Nic for betaing and everything! 💙
> 
> [Fic post, if you want to reblog](http://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/184200426220/snow-big-deal-by-fullonlarrie-louis-is-a) :D

Harry Styles has seen more pubic hair in the past few months than he ever imagined. 

As an assistant photographer on this year’s _ESPN The Body Issue,_ he’s worked in the company of almost two dozen professional athletes, all of them completely nude. Of course, the athletes are provided nice, fluffy, embroidered robes, but that hasn’t kept Harry from getting an eyeful.

They’re on their last shoot, barring any reshoots, and Harry thinks they saved it for last on purpose. It’s cold. Like, fucking freezing. And that’s standing outside the hotel. They still have to drive up the mountain to the ski lodge, set up the lights and reflectors, before they take a single picture. 

At least he doesn’t have to be naked. 

He can’t believe Louis Tomlinson agreed to a naked photo shoot on top of a snow covered mountain in winter. 

He didn’t have to, is the thing. Plenty of the athletes for this year’s issue have made special requests. They’ve flown from coast to coast and back again and have photographed people in front of a simple black background, underwater, in the air, covered in dirt, on a horse, and half of those have been on the athletes’ terms. Harry even helped oil up a professional baseball player when the makeup team was shorthanded because they’d flown out to Arizona to photograph him in his own private batting cages. 

But professional snowboarder Louis Tomlinson, apparently, is totally fine with meeting everyone at midnight at a hotel at the bottom of a mountain in Colorado, and riding up to the ski resort together in a rental Subaru. Louis takes the passenger seat, spending the trip up in conversation with Harry’s boss, Niall Horan. Harry sits in back with Zayn and Liam, the lighting guys. 

Most of the way, Harry forces himself to stare straight ahead, worried he’ll get carsick. He thought it would be okay since it’s dark out, but then his head starts to hurt and his stomach feels sour and he closes his eyes, relaxing against the headrest. If he’s going to feel sick anyway, he’d rather not watch the rock walls of the mountains as they drive through them. Past them. Whatever. Even thinking about them with his eyes closed nauseates him. 

When they get there, Harry hauls the equipment inside the ski lodge, buys a ginger ale at the soda machine, chugs it, and goes to the bathroom. While he pees, Harry rubs circles on his belly with the palm of his hand until he belches. His burp is long and loud and echoes off the tiled walls of the fancy resort bathroom, making Harry snicker. He feels better. The ginger ale did its job. 

“You okay?” Louis asks and Harry jumps, glad he already zipped his jeans. “Harry, right?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Harry steps to the sink to wash his hands. “I get car sick. But I’m fine now. Drank some ginger ale. Good to go!” 

Louis snorts and Harry pulls a paper towel out of the dispenser. 

“Ought to take Dramamine or something,” Louis says.

“I usually do. Just forgot tonight.”

Louis hums and nods and stands there for a moment, then raises his eyebrows and shifts his grip on his bag. “Well, I’m gonna get changed, so…”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry.” Harry’s cheeks heat and he turns, escaping the bathroom. 

It’s not that Harry doesn’t like sports—he loves to watch the Packers play—but he’s always been pretty far removed from the celebrity aspect of it. Sure, he knows who Aaron Rodgers is, but he doesn’t think he could name any of the other Green Bay players. He might recognize some of them on sight, but he doubts it. Of the other NFL teams, he knows nothing. Except that he doesn’t like the Bears. 

As far as other professional sports, he knows who LeBron James is. So this entire job with Niall has been strange. He knows that everyone they’ve photographed is a professional athlete, which he assumes means that they’re famous in one way or another, but some of them act like _famous people_ and some of them are just people who happen to be famous. Louis seems like latter. 

While Niall has the ski lodge employees sign the appropriate paperwork, Harry sets up by the large stone fireplace alongside Zayn and Liam. It’s late already and they’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Plus Harry’s flight didn’t land until that evening so he barely had enough time to check in to his room. With a camera in one hand, and a lens in the other, Harry turns to yawn into his shoulder just in time to watch Louis walk across the room towards him, wearing nothing but a fluffy, white robe. 

When preparing for this job, Harry researched the athletes they were planning to photograph. As soon as he got the list from Niall, he Googled every single one. But Louis was last and the images that Harry found were all of him covered from head to toe in snowboard gear. There was one picture that showed part of his face. Harry remembers a beard dotted with flakes of snow. He wishes he’d tried harder to find a picture so he would be better prepared for dealing with the situation he’s in now. Because Louis was gorgeous when he met them in the parking lot wearing loose jeans and a hoodie, but dressed in nothing but a robe that’s barely tied, Harry thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

All he has to do is concentrate. He can do that. He’s a professional. He isn’t going to get distracted by what is probably a fantastic ass right there in front of him. He’s going to do his job the way he has for every other shoot for this stupid magazine. 

Once Niall’s done with the paperwork and clears out the ski lodge employees, they get started. Most of the shoot is supposed to take place by the fireplace, so as soon as Louis’ makeup and hair is finished, Louis meets Harry and Niall there. 

“Alright, Louis.” Niall points at the roaring fire, then at Louis’ robe. “Ready for the big reveal?”

After hearing almost every single guy they’ve photographed make at least one joke about shrinkage, Harry expects it. It’s understandable. No one wants to be judged by the size of their dick. Not that he’s seen anything unusual so far in that department. The Americans have mostly been circumcised, while uncut seems to be the preference elsewhere in the world. More men groom downstairs than Harry realized, not that he previously put much thought into the grooming habits of the male population at large. 

But Louis doesn’t have any jokes. He chuckles as he unties his robe and says, “Nothing big about it.” 

And there isn’t. 

Harry’s speechless as Louis hands over his robe. So is Niall, who stands there pointedly not looking at Louis’ crotch. And so are the lighting crew, Liam and Zayn. 

No one says anything for far too long. 

Finally, Louis breaks the silence. “It’s fine, guys. Whatever you’re thinking, I’ve probably heard it. Or said it myself. Not a _big_ deal, right?”

Niall snorts. “Man, that was awful.”

“Yeah, there’s only so many times you can emphasize the word big.”

“I, um… Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.” Liam offers his hand for Louis to shake, even though they shook hands already and Louis is literally standing there naked, but Louis shakes it. 

“Like I said, it’s fine.” Louis props his hands on his hips and turns to Niall. “How do you want me?”

“With the board first, I think.” Niall goes back to looking at his camera and Harry can’t tell if he’s avoiding Louis or actually needs to adjust a setting. Not that it matters. He only has to stand around and hold Louis’ robe unless Niall needs him to get a different camera or lens for him. 

Harry watches him bend to pick up his snowboard and quickly averts his gaze. His ass _is_ fantastic. But he can’t look at Louis _like that._ He can be professional. 

Louis poses with the board strategically placed, following Niall’s instructions. 

“So, like…” Liam coughs into his fist, drops his gaze to Louis’ dick and coughs again. “Like, um…”

“Go ahead, man. Not kidding. I’ve heard it all.” Louis shifts his stance and adjusts the position of the board so that he’s holding it horizontally. 

Liam coughs again and Harry wants to ask him if he needs a lozenge, but he finally stops. “Does it work?”

“Yeah, man. I mean, I’m not fucking anyone with less than three inches. But other than that, it’s normal. Just small.”

“So you can like…” Liam bites his lip and looks at Zayn who shrugs.

“I can piss. I can get hard. I can come. Not much else to it, is there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” 

“Man, I’m serious. It’s fine. I’ve had this dick my whole life. Grew up skateboarding and playing soccer and baseball and spent more than my fair share of time in locker rooms. I’ve heard it all.”

Liam nods and takes a few steps back from the fire. “It’s, um… I’ve never seen one that small before.”

“I get that a lot, believe it or not.” Louis laughs. “It’s a good thing I’m gay and like bottoming. Imagine trying to fuck anyone with this? Guarantee it’s the smallest dick any of you guys have seen.”

“No,” Harry pipes up, but that’s all he can say.

“No? You’ve seen a smaller dick than mine?”

Harry nods.

“Poor bastard.” Louis smiles and shakes his head. 

Harry nods again. He can’t speak and he doesn’t want to try. It’s not as though he can explain. 

“It’s not impossible finding guys with big dicks who like to look a little bigger in comparison, but it’d be easier to just… put it out there. Like, first date sharing of info. I like pizza, surfing in the summer, skiing in winter, and I have a tiny dick. Would weed out the judgmental assholes.” Louis looks up at Harry and shrugs.

“Oh! No, I’d never… I’m not like that.”

“Yeah, what happened with that guy?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side. “With the dick smaller than mine? You guys still dating?” 

“No, um… I didn’t— I wasn’t— It wasn’t like that. I wouldn’t—” Harry pushes his hair back and rakes his fingers through, wincing when he catches and pulls a curl. “The person with the, um… The person and I weren’t dating. More like, um… He actually doesn’t date at all. But I wouldn’t care. Or like, judge. People are more than their sexual organs.”

Louis hums as he moves the snowboard, finally passing it to Harry when Niall says he wants to try something else. With his robe around him, Louis looks just as comfortable as he did fully nude and Harry can’t help but feel a little jealous. 

“Hey, Harry?” Louis steps up closer and Harry finds that it’s a little harder to breathe. “You’re a good friend to that guy. It’s nice he has people like you in his life, you know? Like, I imagine I’d have a lot harder time of it if I wasn’t somewhat famous. Not that I’m having all the luck in the relationship department.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean, just between you and me.” Louis looks around and lowers his voice. “Any of those guys that _don’t mind_ my dick? Their big cocks might be good for a fuck, but the rest of them aren’t worth a minute of my time out of the bedroom.”

“That’s… I’m sorry, Louis.” Harry frowns, trying to think of something else to say. No one wants to hear apologies about their tiny dick ruining their love life.

“Don’t be.” Louis grins, glancing down, then back up. “I’m sure you’ve got _bigger_ things to worry about.”

The rest of the shoot is a blur for Harry. He does as he’s told, assisting when Niall needs assistance, robing and _oh my god_ disrobing Louis, fetching props. Niall photographs Louis in succession holding a snowboard helmet, a snowboarding boot, and a fuzzy wool beanie in front of his crotch. 

Packing up doesn’t take too long since they hauled everything inside in one trip, and soon enough the ski lodge manager returns, Louis is fully clothed, and they’re on their way out to the Subaru. 

“You want the front seat?” Louis asks, bumping his shoulder into Harry’s. “I can switch with you.”

“No. No, I’ll probably fall asleep before we leave the parking lot.”

“Alright. If you start feeling sick, let me know though. I’d rather ride in the back than you get sick in the car.”

Harry nods and climbs into the back beside Zayn, but he doesn’t fall asleep in the car. He can’t stop thinking about Louis and his tiny penis. It’s taking over his brain. Hopefully it won’t invade his dreams and he’ll get some good sleep before their early morning shoot.

After carrying everything into the hotel and stashing all of the equipment in Niall’s room, Harry takes the elevator down to the bar. He needs a drink.

With no other customers, the bartender makes Harry’s Caipirinha quickly and returns to the corner of the bar where the television is. Not that Harry expected conversation, but it would’ve been nice. 

“I’ll have one of whatever he’s having.” Louis hops up onto the barstool beside Harry and pokes at the condensation on Harry’s glass. “Thought you were going to sleep?”

“Yeah. I mean, I will. Have to drink this first.” Harry takes a big gulp of his cocktail and sets the glass down perfectly centered on the coaster. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I—”

“No!” Harry turns on his stool to face him. “No, I meant like, I thought you lived around here. So, like, why are you at this hotel?”

Louis shrugs and says, “I do live here. Near here anyway. But it takes about an hour to get up the mountain from there, and you guys offered to put me up, so…”

“Oh, well, that makes sense. Do you ski— I mean, do you snowboard here a lot?”

“No, not often. Like twice? There are slopes closer to my house that I usually ride on. But I like it here alright. What about you? You ski? Snowboard?”

Harry wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Skied once. Kept crossing the skis. Rode down the mountain on my ass. Never again.”

Louis snorts. “You might do better on a board. I could, um… Like, if there’s time tomorrow, I could give you a lesson?”

“I can’t. I would though. Like, it’d be fun to like, hang out, but, um… I have to catch a flight.”

“Oh. Too bad. You’re probably off to take more pictures for this issue.”

“No, um… I mean, I don’t get to take the photos. But, actually, you’re last.”

“Saved the best for last?”

“Don’t know. Guess we’ll see how tomorrow goes.” Harry tries to wink and blinks instead. One drink is hitting him hard. That and it’s almost two in the morning.

“True. True. Naked in the snow. Should be fun.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to be photographed snowboarding naked.” 

“Why not? At least this time I’ll have heat packs and emergency blankets and snowmobiles.”

“This time? You’ve done this before?” 

Louis laughs, tilting his face up to the ceiling, and Harry feels warmer than he has all day. “Yeah, man. I mean, it’s been years, but— You don’t want to hear that story.” 

“Sure I do. If you want to tell me.” 

“Yeah? Alright. Was maybe eight years ago. Back when I was trying to qualify for the X-Games. I’d been out all day and I was fucking exhausted. So one of the guys I was with said he was bored and lit up, passed it around. Then we all started daring each other to do some stupid shit. I’m not… I don’t actually remember what led up to it, but I stripped right there on the mountain and did a few double backflips in nothing but my boots and board. Only thing I felt comfortable doing naked. Like, I knew I could land it and not fall.”

“That’s… That’s kind of scary.”

“Nah, it was fun. And like, there wasn’t a photographer, but my buds definitely took pics with their phones. Much less concerned about making sure my dick was covered in their shots. Just about froze my balls off, but— Sorry. You’ve heard enough about my junk today. Sorry.” Louis bites his lower lip and raises his eyebrows. 

Harry feels his face flush. “I don’t mind. I don’t. It’s not… It’s not that. It’s just weird talking about yours in particular. Not the size. I don’t care about that. It’s just that it’s, um…”

“Mine.”

“Yeah.” Harry tips his glass back and swallows the rest of his drink. 

Louis waves the bartender over. “Another one for me. You want one?” 

He doesn’t have to finish it. Harry nods and mutters a quiet thank you when the bartender sets their drinks down. 

Louis clears his throat. “Do you, um… Is there anything else of mine that you don’t mind talking about? My hair’s pretty awesome. I’ve got a great ass. Or so I’ve been told.”

A cackle leaves Harry mid sip and he sputters into his glass. When he recovers, despite the heat in his face, he smiles and says, “I can confirm. Saw it earlier.”

Louis studies him for a moment, then asks, “Do you live in LA?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Going back out there with some friends next month. Thought maybe we could, um… hang out?”

“Can’t teach me to snowboard in LA, Louis.” Harry rolls his eyes and sips his drink through the stirring straw. 

“I… Well, I wasn’t thinking about snowboarding. I thought I could take you out to dinner? Maybe dancing?”

Quite suddenly Harry realizes that Louis has not been chatting with him because he’s the only other person in the bar. He’s been flirting. 

“I can’t. We can’t. I’m… It’s not because of your penis though!” The smile Louis was wearing all evening falls and Harry can’t handle it. “Like, I promise it’s not. I… I…” He’s too tired. Too tipsy. Too embarrassing to be allowed around people like Louis. Fuck. 

While Louis looks down into his empty glass, Harry slips off his stool. He can’t even apologize, too choked up on his own humiliation to form words, so he leaves without saying goodbye, hurrying to his hotel room. 

Hopefully he’ll still have a job in the morning. 

—

The ride up to the ski lodge is quieter than the evening before and while that’s probably partially due to the early hour—whoever decided that they should do one shoot after midnight and a sunrise shoot the following morning is not Harry’s kind of pal—it’s also definitely due to the palpable tension between him and Louis. 

When they met in the parking lot at five it was still dark and all of them looked miserable, and they still do. The ski lodge manager meets them at the entrance and shows them to the snowmobiles they’re to use to get themselves and all of their equipment up the mountain. Because of his experience with riding jet skis, Harry finds himself driving one of the snowmobiles with Zayn behind him holding on for dear life. He follows the lodge manager who leads them up the mountain to the secluded area where they’re shooting. On the way back down, he’s determined to drive one of the snowmobiles that’s loaded with their equipment. Liam can drive down the mountain with Zayn screaming in his ear. 

At the top of the mountain they unpack everything, assembling the lighting gear and taking test shots with the snow. It’s so cold that they’re all trying to move faster than they normally would, but it feels like it’s taking twice as long to do anything, and they have to get set up in time to catch the sunrise. 

Louis stands off to the side, bundled in multiple layers. Harry glances over, but before he can look away, Louis bends over, strapping one boot to his board and stands back up, pushing off with his free foot and gliding across the flat section of powdery snow between them. Frozen with panic as Louis approaches, Harry searches his mind for anything he could possible say to apologize or explain or make things less awkward, but comes up empty. 

“Ready?” Louis asks, slowing to a stop and not making eye contact. Harry wants to apologize again, but he obviously fucked that up in the bar the night before. 

“Yeah.” Harry nods and points to where Niall is sprawled across an inflated an air mattress, in position to get the shots as Louis flies through the air. The actual temperature outside is higher than it was earlier that morning, but Harry hasn’t managed to warm up. He keeps sticking his hands into his pockets where he’s stashed heat packs, but it’s only keeping him from getting colder.

Louis quickly unzips his heavy coat, swinging it off his shoulders and into Harry’s arms. He pulls his thick fleece sweatshirt over his head, taking his undershirt with it, and lays them on top. There isn’t enough time for Harry to adjust to Louis being half nude when he reaches for the snaps on the sides of his track pants and yanks them apart. He tosses the pants onto the pile of clothes Harry’s barely holding onto, bends over and straps his other boot onto his board, and pushes off down the slight incline. 

Picking up speed, Louis bends his knees and hits the small hill, catching air and flipping upside down, gripping his board. Niall takes the shot and Louis lands gracefully on the other side. He turns around and bends over to unbuckle one foot and starts climbing back up the slope, cupping his junk in one hand. 

Once he’s back at the starting mark, he goes again, and Harry wakes up out of the trance the bitter cold has him in. Shaking his head, he carefully steps closer to the nearest snowmobile, laying Louis’ clothes out in the order that he thinks he’ll want them, and unfolding the emergency blanket they brought, just in case.

Every time that Louis completes a jump, Harry expects him to signal that he needs a break, but he climbs back up and goes again at least half a dozen times. He finally raises his hand as he starts up the slope, and Harry hurries as fast as he can without slipping and falling, carrying Louis’ coat and the emergency blanket. He throws the coat around Louis, wrapping the blanket on the outside, while Louis unstraps his helmet and drops it to the ground. He reaches inside the layers surrounding him and pulls a thick wool beanie out from seemingly nowhere, though it was probably in his coat pocket. 

“Here. I’ve got extra heat packs.” Harry cracks open two of them and without thinking about propriety, he shoves his fist through the layers of blanket and coat, and finds Louis’ hand, making sure he takes the heat packs. As soon as he lets go of them, he realizes that his fingers are within inches of Louis’ dick, and jerks his hand back. “Sorry!”

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes off, gliding through the snow away from Harry, and his heart sinks. While Louis is beautiful and funny and smart and Harry’s so strongly attracted to him that he finds he’s thankful for the cold so that at least he has something else to focus on, he’d never be happy with Harry. 

Harry knows this. He knows from experience that even the prettiest, kindest boys aren’t interested in him when the relationship turns physical. Sure, they’re gentle, choosing their words carefully, but that makes no difference when they all break up with him for the same reason. And it hurts a little more, knowing that Louis is like those other guys, but there’s nothing to be done about it. He straightens his spine and rolls his shoulders back, determined to make it through the rest of the shoot with some dignity. If it’s his last time working with Niall, at least he can say he did his best. 

The next time Louis takes a break, Niall makes his way over, camera bag swinging from his neck. As much as he wants to look at Louis, Harry averts his eyes completely, watching Niall approach instead. He’s so focused on not watching Louis that he isn’t paying attention to Louis’ arrival and he has to stand there shivering and clear his throat so Harry will wrap him up in warm layers. 

“Heat packs.” Harry tugs Louis’ beanie down to cover his ears and pulls the edge of the emergency blanket up, then passes Louis two heat packs. This time he waits for Louis to snake his hand outside of the blanket and take them. He’s a professional. And if he keeps telling himself that, then it must be true. 

Never in his life has Harry been this cold. He literally hasn’t thought of anything besides a steaming hot bath or Louis and his tiny penis over the last hour. Somehow Louis has spent most of that time naked and seems to be handling it better than Harry.

“You okay?” Harry asks. 

Louis shrugs, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs. “I mean, I think my balls might fall off. But I won’t feel it when it happens.” 

Harry snorts and then coughs and all he can think about is Louis’ tiny penis and the little balls that were drawn up tight behind it. He doesn’t realize he’s staring a hole through the warm layers surrounding Louis’ tiny cock until Louis snaps, “My eyes are up here.” 

“Sorry, I—”

“Check it out!” Niall shouts, grabbing his camera bag with one hand while still trying to balance on the snow. He stomps closer, waving them over, so they meet him, huddling against the wind, leaning over the camera.

Louis pulls the emergency blanket up over his head, shading the camera so that they can all see. Niall’s managed to get a number of great shots where the board completely covers everything it needs to. In fact, they may not need to take more. 

When Niall says that they do in fact have enough shots, Harry turns to look over his shoulder at Louis. The tip of his nose, his chin, and his cheekbones are all pink with the cold. His nose is running a little and his eyes are watering and while Harry finds him simultaneously endearing and beautiful, he feels the need to reassure Louis that anything he might we worried about appearance-wise will be taken care of post-production. “You know they’ll touch everything up. Photoshop anything that doesn’t, um…” 

“Measure up?” Louis deadpans and Niall snorts.

Niall passes his camera to Harry and twirling his finger in the air, says, “Wrap it up.”

The hole Harry’s dug himself into seems to get deeper every time he speaks, so he doesn’t bother trying to explain or apologize again. He packs up the equipment and does his job, thinking of the hot bath he’ll take when he gets back to the hotel. Even though he tries to avoid it, Harry winds up driving Zayn back down the mountain, but this time he’s too cold to scream, so it’s not as horrible as it could be. 

With five of them crammed into the Subaru, they head back down the mountain.

— 

Harry’s bath is everything he wants it to be and when he steps back into his room, he feels better than he has all morning. Refreshed, warm, and lightly scented like lilies, he dresses in comfortable sweats and thick socks, figuring he’ll spend the afternoon reading or napping until he has to get to the airport. 

A rapid fire knocking on the door startles him and he trips over the edge of the bed on his way to answer it. Expecting Niall because he likes to bother Harry when he’s bored, he swings open the door, jerking back when he sees Louis standing on the other side, in clothes almost identical to the ones Harry has on. 

“Niall’s room is like four doors to your left.” Harry takes a step back to close the door, staring down at his feet because he might as well, since Louis isn’t looking at him. 

Louis nods and says, “Wasn’t looking for Niall. Wanted to— Thought I should apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“Yeah, like… I mean, I realize now that you were just doing your job. Being, um… kind about, well, you know.” Louis gestures to his crotch and Harry follows the movement of his hand, blushing when he realizes what he’s doing. “Like, how stupid would you have to be to say something rude to me about it, right? I didn’t think… I wasn’t thinking. So, I’m sorry. Sorry for assuming and sorry for overstepping.”

“I don’t— I wasn’t…” Harry sticks his head out into the hall and looks around. “Do you want to come in?”

“No, um…” Louis shakes his head. “I think I said all I needed to. I, um… I didn’t want you to feel pressured or like… I don’t know. Like I expected any kind of… sexual favors or like anything from you. I just… I thought you were interested in me too, so I—”

“Louis.” Harry opens the door wider. “Please come in. I think… Look, just come inside.”

“Fine.” Louis steps through the doorway and follows Harry over to the little table by the window. 

“Sit, please?” Harry pulls a chair out for Louis and waits for him to take a seat before sitting down himself. “I… First, you should know that I never felt pressured or like, obligated or anything. And I… I mean, I was just doing my job, which is to assist Niall. But anything I said to you, I meant.”

“You made it pretty obvious that you aren’t interested in me.” Louis taps his fingertips on the table top and huffs a quiet laugh. “Or my dick.”

“I told you it had nothing to do with your dick.”

“Yeah, well, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

“I… You know what? Fine.” Harry stands. Tired and getting cold again despite his warm clothes, he wants to bundle up in bed. “You go ahead and tell yourself that I turned you down because of your dick, but you— You’re just as bad. Like, literally just as bad as every guy who’s ever complained about your penis.”

“How’s that?” Louis asks, standing and crossing his arms. 

“Because, Louis! What’d you say? You don’t have a hard time finding guys with _big cocks_ to fuck you? How is that any different than every guy who’s ever pointed and laughed at your dick or made jokes about needing a magnifying glass to find it or called it a clit or—”

“I never said any of that.”

“You didn’t have to!”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not the same thing. All I did was ask you out. It’s not like we’re talking about _your_ dick.”

“Yeah? How are we not? How is it that you’re allowed to have some ridiculous big dick requirement that guys have to meet, but they’re not?”

“This is… You’re saying you turned me down because of some stupid off the cuff comment I made about some faceless big dicked dude?”

“No. _Yes._ I’m saying that I turned you down because you’ve made it very clear what’s acceptable to you as far as your… your partner’s penis size.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “Is this about your friend?”

“Who? Niall?”

“No, your friend. You said your friend’s dick is smaller than mine. Is this—”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did. You said—” 

“No, I didn’t. I said I’d seen a dick smaller than yours. You assumed I was talking about a friend.”

“Oh, but you said—”

“I didn’t want to say it was me!” Harry slams his hands down on the table top, dropping his chin to his chest. 

“You?”

“Yes,” Harry whispers, trying to hold back his tears. 

“You— Your— It’s really smaller than mine?”

“Yes! I just fucking said! You want proof? See?” Before Louis can respond, Harry shoves his sweatpants down his legs and lifts the hem of his sweatshirt. With his eyes shut tight, he can’t see Louis’ reaction and he doesn’t want to. 

“Harry, pull your pants up. I know you’re freezing.”

He does as he’s told because he _is_ freezing. Goosebumps cover his legs as he pulls his sweatpants up. Making himself look at Louis, he says, “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to pack so I can check out early. Don’t feel much like being here any longer than I have to, so…”

“I… Okay.” Louis take a deep breath and says, “Okay. I’ll go. But please know that I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings with anything I said. I was just… I mean, I… I didn’t… I’ve never known anyone else with a micropenis and like, I guess I never even considered the possibility of dating someone with one. I just… I think… I mean, what are the chances?”

Harry shrugs and ties the drawstring of his sweatpants tight around his waist. “So now you know. I only turned you down because I knew you wouldn’t want to date me once you saw it. It wasn’t anything to do with your penis. It’s because of mine.”

“I…”

“Look. You said you’d leave. And like, this is up there with the most humiliated I’ve ever been, so if you could?” Harry points to the door, holding his arm out until Louis finally moves in that direction. Once Louis’ back is to him, Harry’s shoulders slump, and when he hears the door open, he sighs.

“Harry?” 

“What?”

“I’m, um… Next month I’m coming to LA.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I thought maybe, if you weren’t busy, we could go to dinner?”

Harry looks up, studying Louis’ face. “Why?”

He shoves his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie and shifts his weight from side to side. “Because I want to go to dinner with you?”

“Yeah, but why? Like, now that you know—”

“I don’t care about your dick. That's why.” Louis huffs and pulls his hands from his pocket, combing his fingers through his hair. “I mean, I actually do. Care. Like, it’s cute.”

“You think my dick is cute.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, I think you’re full of shit, but whatever. Here.” Harry grabs his bag from the bed, rummaging through until he finds his business cards, giving one to Louis. “Not that I expect to hear from you, but all my info’s there.”

Louis nods and taps the corner of the card against his lips. “Can I say something else?”

“It’s not like I can stop you.”

“I, um… I think you’re really beautiful. And like, I know you’re mad at me, but I don’t want you to be sad. I mean, I know it’s my fault and I know I there’s nothing I can really do, but, um… I promise I’ll call.”

Harry grips the doorknob tightly. “Right.”

“Promise.” Louis knocks his knuckles against the door frame and says, “See you next month.”

As soon as Louis steps into the hallway, Harry closes the door and his phone vibrates in the pocket of his hoodie.

—

Over the next few weeks, Harry gets accustomed to living in his own apartment again, and Louis texts him every day. At first the conversations are stilted and strange, even over text, but they eventually settle into a routine. Harry almost always responds to Louis’ texts, but he never initiates the conversation, still convinced that Louis isn’t serious. Yes, they text daily, but it’s nothing romantic and there’s no indication from Louis that he wants more than friendship, so it really does surprise Harry when his phone rings one afternoon and Louis is on the other end. And it’s even more surprising when, after they finish dinner and both of them claim to be too tired to go out dancing, Louis drives him home and walks him to his door. 

“You, um… You want to come in?” 

“Yeah. I, um…” Louis chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect that. Was just hoping for a goodnight kiss.”

“A kiss?” 

“Yes?” Louis looks at the still locked door to Harry’s apartment. “But like, you don’t have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re lovely and sweet and your lips are really pink and they look soft and because I want to.”

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to shift everything in his head that’s been screaming at him that Louis isn’t interested in him, that Louis only wants to be his friend. Blindly, Harry finds the lock and manages to insert the key and turn it without taking his eyes off of Louis. 

“Come in?” Harry pushes the door open and Louis follows him inside. “I, um… I want to kiss you too.”

“Yeah?” Louis wrinkles his nose and grins, leaning in, but Harry leans back. “No?”

Harry shakes his head. “Talk first?”

He pours them each a glass of wine and joins Louis on the couch. If Louis is going to run, he should have all of the information.

“What do you want to talk about?” Louis asks, voice soft. He sips his wine and waits for Harry to respond.

“We’re friends, right?” Harry asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I mean, I was hoping for, um… something more, but—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Louis reacts by not reacting at all. He stares at Harry as if he’s waiting for him to say more, but Harry just nods, so Louis says, “Virginity is… subjective, I think. So, um… What does it mean to you?”

Not a question he expected. In the past he’s heard everything from shock and disbelief to denial. It’s never ended well. “I’ve never… I was going to say I’ve never had sex, but I masturbate, and like, I have toys, so… I guess to me it means I’ve never had sex with another person.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted you to know that. That I don’t have like, any experience, and… I don’t know. I wanted to be up front.”

Louis sucks his lower lips into his mouth and lets it go. “Have you ever kissed another person?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s all I asked for. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you told me. Or that you feel comfortable enough with me to tell me. But it’s not important to me. What you’ve done or haven’t done with other people. Or by yourself. Who knows. Maybe you’re into self-bondage.” Louis grins and shrugs, but all Harry can think of is the time he used his favorite vibrating plug and tied himself to the headboard with a scarf. He came three times before he was able to untie himself and he honestly thought he was going to die tied to his bed with a sparkly pink plug in his ass. 

“It’s not important to you?”

“No. I mean, I’m glad I know because like, if things, um…” Louis coughs and sets his wine glass down, sitting up straight and resting his hands in his lap. “I really like you, Harry. Like, a lot. And yeah, if things work out, eventually I’d love to, um… sleep with you. But on your terms.”

“I like you a lot too,” Harry whispers.

Louis smiles wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good. So, can I kiss you?”

—

There wind up being a couple of reshoots for the magazine, but all of them are studio shots and they’re able to do them in LA, which Harry is thankful for. Especially now that he has a boyfriend and that boyfriend happens to spend more time recently in California than in Colorado. Not that it matters to Harry, but he didn’t realize that Louis’ snowboarding career was so lucrative that he could afford a mountain house in Colorado and an apartment ten times nicer than Harry’s in LA. 

They’ve only been together for a little more than a month and Louis has been infinitely patient with Harry, never pushing, always letting him take the lead, and Harry is happier than he’s ever been. Louis has kissed him softly, taking his time, and he’s kissed him with more enthusiasm and passion than Harry thought he’d ever experience. He’s spent the night in Harry’s tiny, shitty apartment and Harry’s spent the night in Louis’ much nicer one, and while they’ve slept side by side, spooning or cuddling throughout the night, they’ve both kept their clothes on. That alone has been difficult for Harry, only because he’s firmly in the nude sleeping percentage of the population, but he’s hoping tonight will be different.

It’s a little odd since they both saw each other’s dicks before they started dating, but it’s such a huge relief for Harry. Not that he’s had dozens of boyfriends, but with the few he has had, he’s been anxious to the point of nausea when things got physical. With Louis, he’s been anxious, but because he actually _wants_ to take his clothes off and have sex with Louis, however they might work out the details. And he finds that he doesn’t really care about the how. He’d be thrilled to sit there and watch Louis masturbate, if that’s what he’s into. 

They’ve spent most of the weekend together, staying in and watching movies, cuddling on the couch, ordering take out, and generally being lazy. But on Sunday night, Harry cooks them dinner, cleaning the clutter off of Louis’ unused dining table and setting it with candles and flowers, and Louis kisses him in the kitchen for so long that the salmon is dry, the haricots verts amandine are limp, and the couscous is burned to the bottom of the pot. Louis eats it anyway and says it’s the most delicious food he’s ever tasted, making Harry scoff and roll his eyes even as he feels the blush rise on his cheeks. 

“Thank you, baby.” Louis closes the dishwasher with his hip and pulls Harry closer by the hem of his shirt. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Want to.” Harry rests his hands on Louis’ hips and leans in, placing a kiss on the tip of Louis’ nose. “Come with me?”

Louis follows him easily, and Harry leads him by the hand, out of the kitchen and down the hall to Louis’ bedroom, where he opens the door and waits for Louis’ reaction. 

“What is…” Louis looks around the room at the candles on the dresser next to the bottle of lube and the assortment of toys that Harry ordered for them to share, then at Harry. “Baby?”

Harry takes Louis’ other hand in his, holding them both and swinging them slightly between their bodies. He’s rehearsed the simple sentence enough that he doesn’t stutter or stammer as he says, “I want us to have sex.” 

“You— Really?” Louis’ voice comes out higher than normal and a little squeaky and Harry can’t help but laugh while he nods. “God, okay. Okay. Yeah.”

“You sure?” Harry asks. He didn’t expect Louis to be nervous. “We don’t have to.”

“Oh, no. I definitely want to. Just… I didn’t think you did.” He tugs Harry a little closer and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “What do you want?”

Harry shrugs. “Anything? Everything? Whatever you want?”

“I… Well, I want you naked for starters. Tired of seeing your tattoos through this shirt.” He reaches for the top button of Harry’s barely buttoned shirt, slipping it through the fabric, and Harry exhales a shaky breath as Louis’ thumb grazes his nipple. Louis raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods and swallows around the lump in his throat. Knowing he’d be overwhelmed and experiencing it are very different, and he didn’t expect to feel so much so soon. 

Louis pushes the shirt from Harry’s shoulders and before Harry can reach for Louis’ t-shirt, he lowers himself to his knees and rubs his thumbs over the skin of Harry’s stomach just above the waistband of his jeans. He kisses underneath Harry’s belly button while he peels his jeans down his legs, sitting back to help Harry pull them off completely. 

“You want to get on the bed?” Louis blinks up at Harry and runs his hands up and down the outside of Harry's thighs. 

“Okay.” Harry reaches down and helps Louis to his feet, then pinches the fabric of Louis’ sleeve. “Can I?”

Louis lifts his arms and Harry pulls the t-shirt over his head and holds it in his hand, wanting to walk it to the hamper, but finally tossing it to the floor. The drawstring of Louis’ sweatpants is in a neat bow and it’s so cute that Harry laughs as he unties it and pushes Louis’ pants down. 

“You’re not wearing underwear!” 

“Yeah. Sorry?”

Harry laughs again. “Don’t be.”

It’s been months since the first time, but it’s still surprising to see another tiny penis in real life. The difference is that this time he has permission to look and he loves it. Louis’ dick is definitely small, but longer than Harry’s by about an inch and thicker too. And he wants to see it up close, but that seems like an odd request. 

Louis plucks the elastic waistband of Harry’s briefs and lets it pop against his skin. “Get on the bed, baby.”

Harry crawls to the middle of the mattress, lays down on his back, and starts to take his underwear off, but Louis stops him. 

“Let me?” 

Instead of pulling Harry’s underwear down, Louis straddles Harry’s hips and leans down, leaving space between their bodies. 

“Hi.” Harry scrunches his nose and lifts up to kiss him, closing his eyes and losing himself in Louis’ mouth so that he forgets that he’s mostly naked until Louis lowers himself, covering Harry’s body with his own. 

Louis pulls back, nudging their noses together until Harry opens his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispers. 

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

Harry tightens his arms around Louis, smoothing his hands over the warmth of his back. “Yes. Promise.”

“Good.” Louis bites his lower lip and circles his hips, putting just the right amount of pressure on Harry’s tiny dick, and Harry groans just as Louis leans down and kisses the side of his neck. He leaves a line of kisses from the hinge of Harry’s jaw down and around to the hollow of Harry’s throat, then he shifts his body, sucking lightly with each kiss that he presses into the skin of Harry’s chest. Right over Harry’s heart, Louis hums, and then turns his head, watching Harry’s nipple harden as he circles his thumb around it. His beard scratches Harry as he mumbles, “Like that?”

“More.” 

“Yeah?” Louis is almost gentle as he pinches Harry’s nipple, sitting up to watch Harry’s face as he pulls and pinches harder until Harry arches up into his hand and moans. He spends so much time kissing and licking and nibbling that Harry’s mind relaxes and he lets go, sinking into the mattress. 

As Louis kisses his way down, Harry’s stomach muscles tremble, and when Louis hooks a finger in either side of Harry’s briefs, Harry gasps. He tips his head back, not wanting to watch Louis’ reaction when he sees Harry’s tiny erection standing out from his body, but he hears his happy sigh and feels his warm breath and he has to look. Propping himself up on his elbows, he’s just in time to see Louis flick his tongue against his little dick. 

“Baby?” Louis says softly, lips almost touching him. 

“Lou, please,” Harry whines and drops back down, unable to hold himself up when Louis takes all of him into his mouth. The only way he’s ever gotten off before—aside from the self-bondage incident—is with his own hand. And no matter how much warming lube or water in the shower, nothing compares to the feeling of Louis sucking his tiny cock or tugging on his little balls. Harry’s felt on the edge of his orgasm since the second Louis touched him, so when Louis drags his dry fingertip over Harry’s rim, he comes, and Louis swallows it down and licks him clean. 

Pressing a kiss to Harry’s thigh, Louis pushes against his hand when Harry combs his fingers through Louis’ hair. “You okay?”

“Yes. Oh my god.” He grips Louis’ hair and lifts his head so he can see his eyes. “Kiss me?”

Louis crawls up, laying on his side and Harry rolls to meet him, catching his lips in a bruising kiss. He slips his hand between them, finally touching Louis’ tiny cock, jerking him off the only way he knows how, the way he’s always done it to himself, wrapping his thumb and index finger around it and alternating up and down strokes. Moaning into Harry’s mouth, Louis comes between them, his hips stuttering out of control as Harry works him through it. 

“What the fuck was that?” Louis looks down at Harry’s come covered hand in disbelief. 

Harry jerks back. “Sorry! I—”

“No! No, baby. That was amazing. But like, the thing you did with your fingers was crazy. I’ve never come so fast.”

“I, um… That’s how I jerk off.” Harry shrugs. He never knew it was unusual, but it makes sense. Nothing about his tiny dick is normal. 

“Yeah?” Louis rolls away and stands up, grabbing his shirt and climbing back in bed. He wipes his come from Harry’s hand and says, “Think I could watch you do that some time?”

“You’d want to?”

“Of course I want to.” Louis tosses the shirt to the floor and cuddles closer, pulling the blanket over their bodies. He takes a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering closed. “I… I love you.”

Harry waits for Louis to look at him, needing to see the brilliant blue his eyes before he responds. When he finally opens them, Harry smiles. “I love you too.” 


End file.
